


The Way Home

by Ionah



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-02-23
Updated: 2004-02-23
Packaged: 2017-10-13 02:17:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,304
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/131725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ionah/pseuds/Ionah
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After an injury, can Daniel find his way home?</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Way Home

"The blood is moral: the blood is anti-slavery: it runs cold in the veins: the stomach rises with disgust, and curses slavery." --Ralph Waldo Emerson

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Blood dripped red against Daniel's forearm. Without releasing his weapon, he reached up and swiped the back of his hand across his forehead and temple, leaving behind a sticky wet streak that matted his hair to his head. His vision had started to blur, but he refused to give in to the weakness seeping into his body. Jack was behind one of the doors ahead of him, and if he could figure out which one before he was discovered by another contingent of Jaffa warriors, he might actually succeed at his mission.

Sam had gone down after a staff blast to her right leg, and Teal'c had carried her back to the gate, but Daniel had refused to go. Maybe in the past, he would have left Jack's rescue to a better equipped team, but now, since his return from wherever the hell ascended beings existed, he wasn't prepared to give up.

The hallway swayed around him, and he found himself leaning on his right arm against the wall. Halfway to the floor he realized what he was doing and he jerked himself back upright. God, he was such a fool. He was weak from the loss of blood, and it was starting to look like he wouldn't even make it to the next door.

He felt a giggle build in the back of his throat and for a moment, he wondered if he were drunk. Maybe he'd had one too many bottles of wine with dinner and was on the verge of passing out. But no, he had something important to do, something he was willing to risk his life to accomplish, if only he could remember what it was.

Then it came back to him in a flash, and his knees almost buckled under him.

He needed to find Jack.

He couldn't even blame the enemy for his injury. The C-4 had worked, exploding an overhang of rock and crashing it down on the Jaffa chasing after him. Unfortunately, some of the debris had come his way, and without anywhere to hide, he'd hit the dirt and curled up into the tightest ball he could make of himself.

It had kept him from getting killed, but it hadn't stopped the sharp edge of a rock from slicing his scalp open. He was trying hard not to think about any other damage it might have done, but since he had been unconscious for only fifteen minutes, he didn't think his injury could be too severe.

He heard the shuffling stomp of booted feet just around the corner behind him, and a surge of adrenaline brought him back to his feet, despite the nausea. He pushed for the nearest door with what strength he had left. When he reached it, he twisted the lever and the door slid open. As soon as he was inside, he closed it behind him, and although his weapon felt as heavy as solid lead in his hand, he managed to swing it up as he checked the room for the enemy.

He was alone. No enemy. No Jack. Nothing but a few crates stacked in the middle of the room.

He stumbled forward, determined to reach the only hiding place he could see before the Jaffa following him found him standing in the middle of the floor. He slid down behind the crates and let his head fall back. With his legs pulled up to his chest, he was as invisible as he was going to get for the moment.

It was as his eyes drifted shut that he noticed the wall in front of him sliding back. The room had a back door. Unfortunately, Daniel didn't have any energy left to raise his weapon to defend himself.

Jack's arm rose and Daniel saw the glowing light of the hand device, but it didn't matter. He'd failed, and he was certain he was already dying anyway.

* * *

 

"I am lost, abandoned in the present. I try in vain to rejoin the past: I cannot escape." --Jean-Paul Sartre

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"No!" Daniel's own hoarse voice woke him, and he lunged up in the bed. He pushed the covers aside and breathed deeply, trying to climb out of what had to have been a nasty nightmare if the pounding of his heart was any indication.

He rubbed a shaky hand across his eyes, and then jerked when a hand landed gently on his shoulder.

"You okay?"

Daniel stumbled sideways out of the bed and then jerked around. "What the hell's going on here? Where am I?"

Jack's eyebrows drew together, but he waved his arm around the room. "Don't you recognize it?"

Daniel flicked his gaze around the room, careful not to let Jack get out of his sight for long. He appeared to be in Jack's house, with Jack, but of course, that wasn't possible. "How did I get here? And what are *you* doing here?"

"I know you're confused right now."

"You're a goa'uld."

Jack seemed to pick up on Daniel's tone, a mix of sarcasm and condescension. "No, I'm not. Not anymore." Jack took a step forward, his hands held out, palms up. "Just let me explain what's going on, Daniel. Trust me."

Daniel backed up a step, keeping several feet of distance between them. "Go ahead. Explain."

"The last thing you remember is seeing me try to kill you, isn't it?" Jack asked.

Daniel didn't see the need to lie. "Yes. With a ribbon device."

"You were wounded. A head wound. You... passed out, just before Teal'c showed up with reinforcements. We were brought back to the SGC. You were in a coma and I'd been shot with Teal'c's staff weapon, but the goa'uld kept me alive. When I'd healed, General Hammond sent me to the Tok'ra, where the goa'uld was removed. The next time I stepped through the gate it was me. Me, Daniel. You--and Teal'c--saved me. But you didn't do so good. Your head wound damaged the part of your brain that retains your short-term memories. Some days you're fine, you remember everything. But other days...you don't."

Daniel reached up and touched the side of his face, ran his fingers into his hair, but he felt nothing. The injury had healed, and although he felt as if it had just happened, all traces of the wound were gone.

He looked around the room, for the first time paying attention to the details. Just days before that last mission, Daniel had been here, checking things out, making sure nothing was being disturbed and that Jack would have a nice place to come back to when he was brought back through the gate to where he belonged.

There was a book on the nightstand that hadn't been there, and the quilt on Jack's bed had been changed. The bottle of cologne sitting on the dresser beside him was also new. There were, in fact, numerous instances of changes, all little things, all seemingly insignificant, but different, nonetheless. Enough of them to assure Daniel that time *had* passed since that last mission.

"How long? How long has it been?"

Jack grimaced, then shrugged. Daniel knew the truth was going to hurt even before Jack answered. "Nearly five months."

Daniel closed his eyes and reached out a hand to grab the edge of the dresser for support. Five months of his life gone, and he couldn't recall a single second of it. It was as if the time had never existed for him, and he felt cheated of something precious.

He was grateful for Jack's silence while he tried to come to grips with what Jack had told him. Daniel knew he should be grateful. Jack had been saved, the goa'uld removed. They were alive, and really, weren't his memories of the past few months worth that?

But months...

"So what do I do?" he asked abruptly.

Jack's eyebrows drew together. "What do you mean?"

"Do I sit around here all day, or...or go to physical therapy, or what? What do I *do*?"

As if reluctant to answer, Jack hesitated.

"Come on, I need to know what's going on here."

"You have better days, when you remember almost everything. When you're having one of those days, you do stuff, like go to museums, visit friends. We even go to the SGC sometimes. But then... you have days like this and you spend your time trying to remember everything you can about what led up to the accident, trying to get back what you've lost."

"What do you mean? How can I remember everything on some days and not on others?"

"I don't know exactly, but Dr. Warner could explain the whole memory thing to you."

Daniel headed for the beside table and the phone. "I'm going to call him."

Jack's hand landed on his, halting his movement to pick up the receiver. "It's two o'clock in the morning, for crying out loud, you can't call him right now."

"But--"

"You've been doing this to him for months, Daniel. I can't let you keep waking him up so he can tell you the same damn thing over and over."

Daniel yanked his hand from beneath Jack's and swallowed hard. He spoke softly. "I just want to know what's wrong with me."

Jack scowled, then grabbed Daniel and pulled him into a rough embrace. Daniel resisted the need to lean into Jack, to accept the comfort Jack's arms offered. But when Jack buried his nose against the top of Daniel's shoulder, Daniel gave in and leaned his own head into the curve of Jack's neck.

Jack's voice was muffled and low when he spoke. "We'll call him in the morning, okay?"

"In the morning," Daniel agreed.

Jack gave him a final pat on the back, then moved his hands to Daniel's shoulders and pulled away to look him in the face. "Do you want to try to get some more sleep?"

Daniel thought about climbing back into the bed but realized he'd never be able to get any sleep. Besides, it was Jack's bed. How could he be comfortable sleeping in Jack's bed to begin with?

"What am I doing here?"

"What d'you mean?"

"Why am I *here*? In your house, in your room?"

Jack frowned. "You were sleeping."

Daniel pulled loose from Jack's hold and turned a full circle, scoping out the room again, this time trying to really *see* the room. A fern sat tucked into one corner of the room, a momento from Janet's funeral, a picture of Charlie hung on the wall above it, and a family bible rested on the corner of the dresser--things that had always been around, as far as Daniel could remember. And although something felt just a little off, nothing besides the few new items scattered around the room stood out. "How long have I been staying here?"

"Since I got rid of the goa'uld." Jack stepped back and ran his hand over the back of his neck. "Listen, it's not that big a deal. You've been staying here because you get really disoriented when you wake up alone and, well, we can't have just anybody staying with you."

"Because of the program."

"Yeah, because of the program. Classified, and all that."

"Oh." Daniel nodded. They were afraid he would compromise the Stargate, and as confused as he was, he could understand how that might be a concern.

"So, you want to go back to sleep?"

He shook his head, and when Jack just kept staring at him, he muttered, "No."

"You'd rather talk about what you remember? You always say it makes you feel better."

Daniel broke free of Jack's grasp and backed up until he was against the edge of the bed. He sat down and put his head in his hands. "I don't know why. That's the last thing I want to do right now."

"Just give it a try. What were you thinking when you decided to let Teal'c take Carter back through the gate while you stayed behind?"

Daniel saw Jack's bare feet appear directly in front of his own. He hadn't heard him move forward. Daniel thought about not answering Jack's question, but... what the hell? Jack had probably heard it all before anyway. The same excuse, the same reason, time after time after time over the last five months.

"I wanted to save you," he said without raising his head. "You'd been gone for weeks, and this was the first real sighting we'd had of you. It was a chance I had to take."

"You risked your life for no good reason, Daniel."

Daniel jerked his head up. "No good reason?"

"You should have waited for Teal'c to come back through the gate with reinforcements, but you didn't. You took a foolish risk, and you got hurt."

"I did it for you!" Daniel jumped to his feet, waving his arms wildly toward Jack. "I couldn't leave you behind when I knew this might be our only chance to save you."

Jack reached for him again, capturing his arm in a firm grip. "Daniel--"

"I admit it, okay? I screwed up the rescue, and Teal'c had to save us both. You don't have to shove it down my throat."

"I'm not trying--"

"Just back off." Daniel shook off Jack's hand and turned away from him. When he noticed the bathroom door from the corner of his eye, he strode toward it.

Jack didn't follow.

* * *

 

"The difference between false memories and true ones is the same as for jewels: it is always the false ones that look the most real, the most brilliant." --Salvador Dali

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A splash of cold water on his face felt good as he tried to push away thoughts of what his life must be like now. It was obvious he couldn't be a member of SG-1 anymore, even if Jack had never came out and said so. No one would know from one day to the next what he would remember, and that would clearly make him a hazard to have on *any* SGC team. But maybe... he wondered if he was still part of the SGC in other ways. Was his knowledge of the Goa'uld still important? Did anyone still depend on his research? If so, he might still serve some function at the SGC.

He dried his face with a towel hanging nearby and then stared at himself in the mirror above the sink.

He looked the same, but he supposed five months wasn't really that long. Still, it was long enough. He looked at the spot where his wound would have been, but the skin was smooth up to his hairline, and even into his hair, there was no trace of where he had been injured. Five months had removed any visible reminders of what had happened to him.

A knock sounded on the closed door. "Daniel?"

"I'll be out in a minute."

"You okay?"

Daniel sighed and pushed himself away from the sink. "I'll be fine." He couldn't make out Jack's muffled reply, but a moment later, the door jerked open.

"You're not fine. Let me help."

"I will be. And I don't need any help."

"Daniel, let me--"

"What are you doing?"

Jack tightened his arm around Daniel's shoulders. "Is it bothering you?"

"Yeah. Yeah, it is." Daniel shrugged in a half-hearted attempt to dislodge Jack's arm, even though the solid contact with Jack felt good--warm and comforting, and as familiar as their friendship had become over the years.

They were friends, but really, they were more than friends. Their relationship had always been different from the typical, and Daniel had always been okay with that.

Until he had discovered that Jack was in love with him.

But Jack had no way of knowing that Daniel knew, since the discovery had been mere chance, during the time while Jack was missing.

Jack pulled away with a sigh. "Sorry, just thought you needed another hug."

Daniel closed his eyes for a second. "No, it's okay. It's me. I just, I don't know, I just need some space while I try to figure out how to deal with everything."

"Hey, none of this is your fault, and well, I'm sorry for what I said earlier."

Daniel tired to smile, but he knew the result was nothing but a faint imitation of the real thing. "You wouldn't happen to know... Am I getting better?"

"Yeah, you are," Jack said. "You went nearly a month without a spell, then you started relapsing. Warner says it's the stress."

"You mean it's happening more often?"

"Third time this week."

"So what's causing the stress?"

Jack pointed over his shoulder toward the door. "Why don't I go get you a glass of water or something?"

"What's going on, Jack?" Daniel knew he sounded frustrated, but he felt like he was trying to pick out a single grain of sand from a desert. Jack wasn't being helpful, seemed, in fact, to be trying to make it difficult for him to find out anything.

"We'll talk about it in the morning, okay?"

Anger made his voice harsh. "No. I want to talk about it *now*."

"Okay, fine, we'll talk about it now." Jack grabbed Daniel's shoulders. Daniel tried to jerk free, but Jack held tight and pushed him backwards against the edge of the bed. "Sit," he said, his tone as commanding as it had ever been out in the field.

As soon as Daniel relaxed onto the mattress, Jack released him, and then the bed dipped as Jack's weight settled beside him.

"A lot of things have changed over the last five months, Daniel, and I never know where to start."

"So you've done this before?"

Jack looked sideways at him before turning his head to face forward. Daniel followed his gaze. There, in the mirror, he saw them sitting side by side. Jack's shuttered expression caused a tightness in Daniel's chest, and he wondered just what it was that Jack didn't want to tell him.

"You've been getting better from the beginning. The spells come farther apart every time, and Dr. Warner and the specialists he brought in thought you might be on your way to a full recovery." He saw Jack turn toward him, and Daniel let his gaze fall away from the reflected image and focus on the man beside him.

Jack put his hand on Daniel's shoulder, and this time, Daniel let him.

Without further hesitation, Jack said, "Sarah killed herself last week."

It wasn't something Daniel expected to hear, although he was not nearly as suprised as he should have been, but still, he couldn't get his throat to work, knew that if he did, it wouldn't be words spilling out. He clenched his fists and ground his teeth together so tightly that his jaw ached, and when he finally thought he could manage, he could say only one thing. "How?"

"She overdosed on antidepressants."

There was no reason to ask why, because he already knew the answer. Before the rescue, even before Jack had been goa'ulded, Sarah had been having trouble coping with the memories of what she'd done while she was host to Osiris. Unlike Ska'ra, Sarah had been unable to put the past behind her, to truly believe that she had not in some way been responsible for everything Osiris had done, and she had been on strong medication for depression from the beginning.

"And then I relapsed." Daniel crossed his arms over his chest, pulling them in tight to his body. He'd been worried about Sarah for a while, and he'd even been spending time with her, trying to help her settle into her life again. But then the rescue and his injury must have changed all that.

And now she was dead.

Jack squeezed his shoulder. "You did everything you could to help her. Don't think you didn't."

Daniel tilted his head to the side and looked sideways at Jack. "I can't help thinking that if this hadn't happened to me, things might have been different."

"Maybe, but things are better than they could've been. You're alive, I'm alive, and I'm not a goa'uld." Jack shrugged. "That's something. And you *will* eventually get better. Dr. Warner even says so, and I don't think he'd give either of us false hope."

Daniel nodded. "Doctors always try to prepare the patient for the worst, don't they?"

"Just trying to cover their asses so they don't get sued."

Daniel fought a smile. Jack always did have a way with the truth.

"Now," Jack said, giving Daniel a push sideways. "Lay down and rest."

Daniel leaned over, pulled his legs up on the bed behind Jack, and stared across the room at the fern and wondered how he could be so tired and yet not be sleepy. "I don't think I can sleep here."

"Yeah you can. You've been doing it for months. Just lay there, and I'll sit here beside you, and we'll talk and before you know it, you'll be dozing off, and I'll climb in beside you and we'll both finally get some sleep." Jack patted his hip, then rested his hand on the side of Daniel's thigh. "So, you want to talk, or you want me to talk?"

"I don't know. I don't really have a lot to talk about. Tell me what happened when Teal'c showed up and saved us."

Jack's hesitation to answer was noticeable. Daniel raised his head from the pillow and looked down to where Jack sat on the bed beside his legs. "I know there's something you didn't tell me earlier. You hesitated when you mentioned that I passed out."

"You didn't pass out right away, but I really don't want to talk about what happened before Teal'c got there, so why don't you talk, okay?" Jack sounded strange, but Daniel wasn't sure what it was in Jack's voice that made him uneasy. He only knew that Jack's fingers had started to curl, but then Jack had obviously noticed and had relaxed his hand where it lay on Daniel's thigh.

"I don't remember anything after seeing your eyes glow and watching you raise the hand device."

"Do you remember sending Teal'c and Carter back through the gate with the message about Anubis's new weapon?"

"Yeah, I remember all that. Some of it's kind of vague, but I remember it. Sam got shot, and Teal'c had to make sure she got back because she had the--"

Daniel stopped speaking. His gaze hung on the fern in the corner, and his chest tightened as his heart sped up. The fern was dead. He remembered that. The fern was dead because he'd forgotten about it. He'd watered the violet in the kitchen, and he'd watered that strange vine in the corner of the living room, but he'd never once watered the fern, and it had died. And that last day, he'd picked up the fern and tossed it in the trash because the sight of it dead had made him realize that Jack was a goa'uld and he wasn't coming back, just like Sha're hadn't come back.

And now, the fern was here.

Alive.

* * *

 

"... memory is the only way home." --Terry Tempest Williams

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Daniel scrambled up on the bed, jerking away from Jack, then shoving hard against Jack's back. Jack stumbled off the bed, nearly hitting the floor, but stopping his fall just in time.

"God, I can't believe I almost fell for it! You had everything worked out, didn't you? Every last fucking detail, and I--" Daniel ran his hands through his hair. "I almost gave you everything you wanted."

Jack put his hands out in front of him and took a step closer to Daniel, but Daniel slid to his feet on the other side of the bed.

"You're not thinking straight, Daniel. You need to calm down."

"What I need to do is get the hell out of here." Daniel looked around frantically, searching for something, anything he could use as a weapon. Jack--no, the goa'uld would try to stop him from leaving the room, and he couldn't afford to fail. This was his chance to save himself, and Jack. Because he'd be damned if he were leaving without Jack.

But he would have to be smart about it, because the goa'uld probably had some kind of weapon hid on his body somewhere, just in case something like this happened. Just in case he failed to get what he wanted from Daniel before he figured it all out.

"If I'm crazy, you're going to have to prove it to me, Jack, because I just can't see any other explanation for what's going on here."

"You're not being rational. There's nothing here that needs proving, Daniel. We're in my house, you're sleeping in my bed, and dammit, you can look out the window and see my next-door neighbor! Go on," he said, throwing out his arm and pointing towards the bedroom door, "Go on and step outside."

He looked across the room at the door, but didn't make a move in that direction. "It's a trick." Had to be. As soon as he turned his back, the goa'uld would make his move, and that would be it for his chance of escape.

And then he remembered something else. His hand went to his temple. "That's why I don't have a scar. You've had me in a sarcophagus."

Jack's expression hardened. "You *were* in a sarcophagus. You want to know what happened before Teal'c showed up? Because, fuck it, I'll tell you. You were dumped in the sarcophagus and when you came out you were tortured. You were tortured to within an inch of your life by the goa'uld inside *me* and then forced to do things I *never* want to think about again!"

Daniel stared at Jack, torn between wanting to believe him and hating him. "Just shut up! I don't believe you. I would remember--"

"No, you wouldn't. You don't. You've never remembered that part. Listen, you're not thinking straight, and you've got this all wrong." Jack sounded weary, as if he knew it was too late for logic and reasoning.

"Then prove it! Right here, right now."

"I can't, and you know it, not without leaving the room. But if you want, I'll go first, and you can follow."

It was a risky move and Daniel knew Jack knew it.

Jack walked to the door and reached for the handle. Daniel didn't bide his time any longer. He launched himself across the room, flying at Jack and knocking him to the floor before he had time to react. He struggled to find a weapon on the goa'uld before the goa'uld could get to it.

Jack grabbed Daniel's upper arms and threw them both sideways. Daniel managed to get one arm free and he elbowed Jack in the chest. But then Jack got his arm around Daniel's neck and pushed Daniel's face down onto the floor. Daniel couldn't breath as Jack's arm squeezed tight.

"Stop this! Stop it before one of us gets hurt, you hear me?"

Then his hold loosened fractionally, allowing Daniel to suck in a breath through his teeth. "Fuck you."

"Listen, I know what you think is going on, but you're wrong, Daniel. You're wrong."

"You fucked up, don't you get it?" Daniel bucked up against Jack's hold, but Jack's knee was in the center of Daniel's back, and he couldn't break free. "I don't believe a word you're saying now. You're a goa'uld, and you couldn't have known I killed the fern."

"I don't know why the hell you're going on about the damn fern, but you brought it home from Sarah's funeral and insisted we put it in here. You wanted it and you never said why."

Daniel's right arm was trapped between his chest and the floor, but his left was unrestricted. Although he couldn't reach behind him to grab the goa'uld, his fingers were only inches from the bottom edge of the curtains.

He reached for the corner of the fabric and yanked as hard as he could.

He closed his eyes as dust swirled around them, and then heard a grunt and felt the curtain rod come down on the back of his legs.

The knee in his back shifted, and Daniel rolled to the side. He was on his knees, pulling at Jack's arm around his neck when he felt something sharp poke him in the ass.

The effect was almost instantaneous as lassitude washed over him. And just before he tumbled forward to the floor, he heard Jack's voice.

"Shit, we're gonna have to start all over again tomorrow."

* * *

 

"The richness of life lies in memories we have forgotten." --Cesare Pavese

=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=+=

It was the incessant buzz of the alarm that woke him. That, and the dead weight on his right arm, cutting off all circulation and leaving behind only a cold numbness where the limb should have been. Jack tried hard to open his eyes, but the grittiness under his lids made him want to roll over and go back to sleep.

Because he didn't want to wake up yet. He didn't want to face the day knowing that last night had lasted way too long and that there was the possibility it wasn't over yet.

At that moment, the weight on his arm shifted, and a sudden influx of blood into the stretched out limb sent fire rushing into his muscle. A short groan escaped the back of his throat, and he flexed his fingers against the pain of his returning circulation.

"Y'okay?" Daniel's muffled voice disappeared against the curve of Jack's neck, and the vibrations from the sound caused a shiver to pass over his skin. His nipples puckered, and Jack tried hard to ignore his dread and just enjoy Daniel's presence beside him.

"Go back to sleep," he said, as he stretched away from Daniel to turn off the alarm.

"Ugh, I don't think I can. I feel like I have a hangover." Daniel rose up on his pillow, his face scrunched into a grimace.

Jack rubbed his hand over his chest and tried not to feel guilty for the surge of relief flooding him. This was going to be a good day, he could already tell. "After the size of the sedative I had to give you last night, I'm not surprised."

Daniel's eyebrows drew together, and his gaze locked on Jack's. "Was it bad?"

"It was bad. You flipped out over the fern."

"The fern?"

"Yeah, the fern."

"Never done that before."

"No, but maybe we should move it out to the living room or something."

Daniel pursed his lips. "Yeah, you might be right."

"Anyway, now that the stress of Sarah's funeral is behind us, maybe you'll stop having these spells again."

"God, I hope so. I just wish I could remember what happens."

"It's better that you don't," Jack said. And he meant it.

He prayed regularly that Daniel never remembered what that goa'uld had done to him in the hours before Teal'c and the reinforcements had arrived, because by some miracle, over the months of Daniel's recovery, their relationship had changed, and finally, nearly a month ago, Daniel had made the first move.

Daniel's hand eased up onto Jack's chest. "How long can you keep doing this, Jack?"

"As long as it takes." And Jack reached over and wrapped his arm around Daniel's shoulders and pulled him in close to his chest.

"Love you too," Daniel mumbled against Jack's skin. "Love you too."

THE END

The Way Home / Ionah  
02/23/2004


End file.
